The Christmas Tree
by Historical Obsessions
Summary: An expedition to buy a Christmas tree turns out to be a little more eventful than John bargained for. Written for the Banna Secret Santa Exchange 2018.


**Description:** An expedition to buy a Christmas tree turns out to be a little more eventful than John bargained for. Written for the Banna Secret Santa Exchange 2018.

 **Warnings:** None.

 **A/N:** I'm back with my yearly upload! I wish I had more time to write, but law school is tough and leaves me with little time. I promise to finish CFAL at some point, goodness knows when that will be though. This is a Christmas present for lemacd123, I hope you enjoy and had a wonderful Christmas! Chapter two should be up before I restart university in mid-January. As always, my eternal thanks to silly-beggar for the super quick editing, I couldn't do this (or most of my life) without you.

 **Disclaimer:** Anna, Bates and Downton Abbey all belong to Julian Fellows and are not my intellectual property. I'm only borrowing them for a bit and I fully intend to give them back!

* * *

It had, admitted John to himself, not been one of his best ideas to try and transport a seven-foot Christmas tree across Central London, using only public transport and with the help (or, rather, the hinderance) of a three-year-old boy. It had not further helped things that, today being the first Saturday of December, London was packed with Christmas shoppers, none of whom seemed to have any qualms about pushing father, son and tree out of their way.

The whole adventure had started successfully enough. Leaving a very pregnant (and not exactly cheerful) Anna on the sofa, the boys had left home to do their Christmas shopping. If John was entirely honest with himself, the expedition was less about the shopping and more to prevent Anna from exploding with frustration.

However much he loved his wife, John had to admit that pregnancy did not suit her. As her bump grew and she reached her time, instead of that midwife-assured glow, she got uncharacteristically crabby. Not that John minded much – after their struggles with fertility, he would have happily moved in with the Grinch himself if the result was William and his new baby brother or sister. But you couldn't blame a man for wanting a moment without being nagged or yelled at, especially at Christmas. Besides, John reasoned, he knew he and William did not help matters, both being prone to untidiness. He was sure it would do Anna good to have some time alone.

John had finished his shopping quickly; he really had bought almost everything already. The boys then wondered the packed streets of Central London, soaking up the atmosphere and trying not to get crushed by shoppers. It was when he was showing William the Christmas display in a shop window and William pointed towards a forest scene that John realised that it would be the perfect opportunity to buy a real Christmas tree. They would surprise Anna and John was sure it would cheer her up a bit. She had, after all, always loved Christmas.

The Christmas tree itself was fairly easy to buy. There was a stall on the corner of a quiet street with hundreds of trees, already cut and wrapped, just waiting to be taken home. Having decided that, if they were going to have a real Christmas tree, they might as well go all out, John had selected a seven-foot specimen, paid the jolly seller (who had a startling resemblance to Father Christmas himself) and went on their way. John was strong, and the tree wasn't as heavy as it looked, so they made good progress despite the busy streets. William skipped ahead when they turned down quieter streets but obediently came and hung onto John's coat when things got more crowded.

Things had started to take a downwards turn when they got to the tube. John wasn't a fan of the underground trains, being somewhat claustrophobic. Like always, the lift was out of order and so he lugged the Christmas tree down 3 flights of steps while William hung on to one of the trailing branches. John would never be able to explain how he got himself, his son and the tree through the ticket barrier with just one tap of his Oyster card. He supposed his brain had probably erased it from his own memory for his wellbeing.

The tube, due to the abundance of Christmas shoppers, was heaving, and they had to let two trains pass before they found one empty enough to squeeze the tree onto. The train, although not packed, was still busy and there was a particularly stroppy lady in their carriage. After five stops worth of tutting, John had decided to disembark before he throttled the lady, thinking that the bus might be quieter. This turned out to be a massive miscalculation, John realised as he and William boarded the bus, which was even busier than the underground had been.

Which was how John found himself in his current circumstances; squashed against the grimy glass window of a bus, weighed down with a tree and frantically trying to stop his small son from introducing himself to every person on the bus. Stranger danger was not a concept yet grasped by William who instead favoured shaking hands, which, while endearing to those who knew him, was less favourably viewed by those who didn't. Tutting elderly ladies seemed to be all too frequent in London today, thought John, spotting another such being perched next to them, tutting enthusiastically. William, of course, decided that she was to be his new friend and made off to introduce himself. John made a valiant grab for his son's hood, missed and very nearly dropped the tree on top of the lady who William had been trying to greet.

Much shrieking (from the lady), apologising (from John) and bawling (from William) later, they had reached their stop and, relieved, John dragged both tree and sobbing son from the bus.

"B-but why didn't she want to be my fr-friend?" hiccupped William, thoroughly unused to any yelling, especially at such a high-pitched tone.

John sighed. He privately hoped that this encounter would discourage William from any further hand shaking attempts, but he hated to see his son so upset. He cuddled William close and, when the sobs had subsided, swung the Christmas tree back up onto his shoulder for the five-minute walk home.

It didn't take long for William to cheer up. By the time they reached their front door he was happy again, skipping ahead of John and the tree singing to himself. John had never been more pleased to see their little house in his life. He was rather more looking forward to seeing his wife, however uncomfortable and grumpy she might been earlier. After scrabbling with his keys, John turned the lock and pushed the door open, letting William run in before him.

"Anna, we're home. Come and see what we've bought you!"

But Anna was nowhere to be found.

* * *

To be continued...


End file.
